Reality
by MissDarrenCriss
Summary: Katniss loses her grip when the third Quarter Quell is announced.  Peeta is there to hold the pieces together. AU.
1. Chapter 1

"Oh, don't you just look gorgeous! Our work here seems to be done for the moment!" I shut out the excited chatter of my prep team and close my eyes as tightly as I dare with the amount of makeup I'm wearing. Breathing deeply, I assess my situation. I am standing in the middle of my new living room, which has been turned into a fully equipped recording studio. I am wearing a beautiful ivory gown with a plunging neckline and a long vail is pinned in my hair. I am surrounded by an oblivious, overly excited prep team, a Capitol film crew, my mother, and Prim. I am in the process of putting on the most important show of my life. There is no way out. Defeated, I open my eyes and put on what I hope resembles a cheery smile.

I'm poked and prodded and put into position for the cameras, while people in sickeningly outrageous clothing direct me to smile this way or turn that way. I am trapped and it makes me feel sick to my stomach. The man I am being forced to marry is just next door, and I find myself desperately wishing he was with me, and then quickly scolding myself for that wish. I don't know how I feel about Peeta, and I am in no rush to try and sort through all the things I feel for him. I doubt my fragile psyche could handle that without some kind of malfunction, and my main focus right now has to be staying alive.

My thoughts are broken when I hear my mother's voice from the next room. "There is some sort of breaking news on the television. It's mandatory viewing. They're about to make some kind of... unexpected announcement." She lowers her voice with the last words, and I can tell she shares the same fear that has just paralyzed me. When the Capitol makes this type of announcement, it is never good news for the districts. I am frozen to my spot, standing with my arms hanging uselessly at my sides, as everyone buzzing around the room quiets and gathers in front of the television.

Everything seems to be moving in slow motion. I hear Caesar Flickerman's voice telling a live capitol audience that President Snow has decided to announce the rules of the third Quarter Quell early this year. I feel some of the tension in the room dissipate, as my suspicion only grows. Snow wouldn't declare it this early if he didn't have something even more horrific than usual to announce.

That's when it happens. I hear his voice so clearly that I can almost smell the single white rose attached to his lapel.

"On the seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest of them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, the male and female tributes will be reaped from their existing pool of victors."

I'm falling. I am falling backwards and sinking into the ground beneath me. I see a frenzy of people moving above me, their shapes blurred by the bright lights behind them. I see their mouths moving, but I hear nothing. I am falling.

"Katniss, Katniss wake up." Peeta's calm voice pulls me back into reality. I open my eyes slowly, afraid of what I'll find. I vaguely notice that the crowd has dispersed, leaving me alone with Peeta, my mother, and Prim. Peeta is kneeling at my side, holding my right hand. My left hand feels around at my side. Carpet. I passed out and I am laying on my back. I close my eyes again, deciding that I don't like reality. I want to go back to unconsciousness where life is more manageable.

Peeta won't allow it. He gives my hand a gentle squeeze and hesitantly I open my eyes once more. My chest heaves with the effort of breathing. I don't scream or cry or throw things like I wish I had the strength to do. Instead, a single tear rolls down my cheek as I lock eyes with Peeta. He reaches behind my back with his free hand and pulls me to a sitting position. We stay in like that, him supporting me, until I feel my body move of its own accord. I lean into him until our foreheads are touching, our hands still clasped tightly between our chests. We remain perfectly still, simply breathing, until Prim clears her throat.

"Well, we ought to be getting into town for those healing supplies, right mother?" she says. Her voice wavers slightly, and I would say something back, but I don't trust my own voice. I nod in acknowledgment, trying to swallow the lump that has formed in my throat at the sight of Prim having to be so strong. She leads my mother out of the house and I am left alone with Peeta. I am relieved and afraid all at once.

I realize I am playing with the fabric of my dress and shudder. An overwhelming sense of dread washes over me and I feel like the garment is suffocating me. It is toxic and overpowering and I need to be far, far away from it. I squirm trying to reach behind me and undo the long line of buttons trapping me in the dress. Peeta's eyes search mine, trying to understand why I jumped into action without warning.

"Peeta," I gasp, "Peeta, get it off." I feel hot tears form behind my eyes.

"What?" he asks, his tone urgent for the first time.

"Please, I need it off," I sob, pulling at the front of my dress, trying desperately to show him what I mean.

"Okay," he says soothingly, "Okay, I'll get it off." He moves behind me and quickly begins undoing the small buttons. Sobs wrack my body and I'm sure I'm making things more difficult for him, but I can't help it. He finally reaches the last button and I bolt to my feet, yanking the dress off of my shoulders. I struggle to get the tight bodice over my hips, and finally manage to step out of it. I take a few shaky steps backwards, wearing nothing but my my plain white undergarments. Peeta, sensing what I need in that way that only he can, picks up the dress and throws it around the corner, out of my view, then closes the distance between us. Without thinking, I throw myself into his arms. He wraps one arm around me, resting his hand on the small of my back. With the other hand, he gently pulls the vail out of my hair and tosses it away from us. I clutch his shoulders and bury my face in his chest. I have completely lost myself. I am broken. I want to go back to the reality where the only thing I was being forced to do was marry the man who is holding the pieces together.


	2. Chapter 2

I wake up to the sun streaming in through my curtains. My head is pounding and my eyes feel swollen. The moment I realize I must have been crying, memories of last night flood my mind. Snow announcing the quell. The horrible dress. Peeta carrying me upstairs and holding me until I feel asleep. Peeta. I look around, half expecting to see his sleeping form next to me. He isn't there, and I am ashamed at the disappointment I feel. Of course he would't stay.

I sit up and immediately feel a rush of dizziness. With much effort, I manage to stand and walk to the bathroom. My head is pounding so fiercely I can hardly hear myself think, not that that stops the thoughts from coming.

I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and instantly wish I hadn't. The makeup that my prep team had painted onto my face so meticulously the day before is now a series of streaks tracking the path that my tears had taken down my cheeks. My eyes are red and just as swollen as they feel and my hair is stuck to my neck from the sweat that seems to drench me every night as I dream of the Games.

I sigh and turn on the shower. As the hot water works in vain to clear my mind, I hear a loud clatter coming from downstairs. At first I assume it's just Prim or my mother being clumsy, but when there is a second noise, this time louder, my suspicion grows. I turn off the tap and step out of the shower. After I wrap myself in my towel and braid my hair quickly down my back, I step into the bedroom to find some clothes. The noise comes once again and I pull on a sweater and jeans before I speed down the hall to the stairs.

"Prim?" I call, "Mother? Hello?" There's no answer and I increase my pace, practically running down the stairs into the kitchen, where the crashes came from.

"Hello, sweetheart," comes Haymitch's gruff drawl. He is opening and closing the cupboards, most likely looking for liquor.

"We don't have any booze, Haymitch," I snap, "Stick to wrecking your own house." I move around the island to start picking up the pots and pans that ended up on the ground in Haymitch's drunken quest.

"Ah, I'm not just here for booze, sweetheart. I figured you would be wanting to have a little chat with me and I decided to be extra nice and come to you, so you didn't have to venture into my wreck of a house," he sneers.

"Why would I want to have a chat with you?" I fire back.

"Well, well, well. Look it here. I was right. You really don't deserve him," Haymitch gives a humorless laugh and flops himself down in a chair. I just glare at him, waiting for him to explain. "Two victors are going into those Games. One of them is going to be you. After you fell apart in the middle of your goddamn photo shoot and cried the night away in lover boy's arms, he came to me. While you were sleeping, he woke my ass up and made me swear to him that he would be the one to go into those Games with you," my heart sinks to somewhere near my stomach as he continues, "He's still protecting you with everything he's got and here I thought that maybe you would be wanting to do the same. But I was right about you in the beginning, sweetheart. You could live a million lifetimes and still never deserve him."

I close my eyes and swallow, trying to hold back the bile I feel rising in my throat. "Haymitch," I say. But he cuts me off before I even have a chance to try and put everything I am thinking into words.

"Don't worry about trying to fix your little slip up. I'm going to do what I goddamn well please. We won't know what is going to happen until it does. But it's his turn to live, if we're going to go by you're little owing people system. Just start thinking a little quicker on your feet, sweetheart." He pulls himself out of the chair and walks through the door, closing it behind himself right before I empty the contents of my stomach into the sink.

I rinse my mouth and run my sleeve across my face before turning around and sinking into a sitting position. Clutching my legs, I bury my face into my knees. I know I care about Peeta. I know I care about Peeta more than I'd like to admit that I do. I know I would do anything to protect him. I also know that while I was busy wallowing in self pity I forgot to actually act on those feelings. Once again, Peeta was the better person, putting my safety in front of his fears. I wipe the tears off my cheeks, pick myself up off the ground, and begin to make my way towards Peeta's house. I know I have a resolve that nothing will break. As long as I am alive, I will do everything in my power to make sure that Peeta Mellark does not die.


	3. Chapter 3

"Peeta!" I am pounding on the door of the immaculate Capitol creation he now calls home. The door is locked, which is not a good sign. "Peeta, please I need to talk to you!" The desperation I hear in my voice makes me feel sick and weak, but gives me hope that Peeta will detect my urgency. The door creaks open slowly just as I lift my fist to pound on the door yet again. Peeta is standing before me, his hair a mess and his eyes rimmed red, and my arm swings back to my side, useless.

"Hi Katniss," he says, his voice lacking the strength I am so used to hearing, "I was just in the other room baking some bread for the neighborhood kids and didn't hear your knock." For a such a smooth liar, he really didn't think that one through. There is no flour in his hair, no smell of cooking dough, no glint of happiness in his eyes that comes with baking. None of the tell-tale signs of Peeta's baking are present, but there are plenty of tell-tale signs of Peeta's pain surfacing that just can't be hidden.

"Can I come in?" I ask meekly, as if I've reverted back to childhood and I am asking some outrageous favor of someone incredibly intimidating.

"Uh, I was actually in the middle of-"

"Please. I need you right now and I think that you just might need me too and if we can get past these awkward exchanges then maybe it will help us deal with all the shit we're about to go through," I say, all in one breath, effectively getting him to both stop talking and back away from the door to let me pass.

I close the door behind me, and he stares at me for a full thirty seconds before offering me his hand. I take it gratefully and let him lead me into the living room. A fire is blazing in the hearth, but the house feels cold and empty. Peeta sits on the oversized couch and I follow suit, gripping his hand tighter when he tries to let go.

"Peeta, there are things I need to tell you, but you know I'm not the best with words and I'm not even really sure if anything I'm thinking will make sense when I try to say it," I say in a breathy voice that I hardly recognize as my own. I know I need to communicate with him, especially after the way Haymitch and I tried to keep the true extent of President Snow's anger from him. I owe it to him. I remind myself to breathe and wait for him to answer me.

"Just try, Katniss. I want to know what you're feeling, and you know I would never judge you on how those feelings surface. The fact that you're even attempting to talk to me about this speaks volumes," he says, his voice returning to the strong and sweet tone that I have become so accustomed to. His steadiness reassures me, and I take a deep breath before speaking.

"In a few months, I am going to be back in the Games. I will be fighting against the best of the best and nothing is going to change that. What can change is who is there with me," Peeta's shakes his head at this, predicting where I am going with the conversation, "No, let me finish. I don't want you there with me. Not because I don't want you around me, believe me I do. You're the only one who calms my nightmares and those nights on the train during the Victory Tour are the only nights I have slept peacefully in a long time," I blush furiously at admitting this, but plow on before I lose my train of thought, "I don't want you with me because I can't stand the thought of you... of you dying." I choke on the word dying and blink rapidly to try and stem the flow of my tears. Peeta squeezes my hand and lets me continue speaking. "I know you went to Haymitch already and I know you asked him to promise that you would be there with me. I know you want to protect me and I know you are going do everything you can to go into that arena with me. What you don't know is I will do anything I can to stop that. Even if you end up there with me, as long as I'm alive I will do everything in my power to make sure you make it home, because Peeta, if you die I'll die with you."

I can no longer speak through my sobs and I bury my face in my free hand. I feel strong arms encircle me and before I know it Peeta has pulled me into his lap. I grip his shoulders as he strokes my hair and rocks me in his arms, and I cannot decide whether telling him this was the best decision of my life, or the biggest mistake I've ever made. I have never been so candid with anyone about my emotions, and the things I told Peeta were things I had never even fully admitted to myself.

I chance a look into Peeta's eyes, and I see a single tear rolling down his cheek. Without thinking, I reach up and wipe the tear away. I let my hand linger on his cheek and search his face for a hint as to what he is thinking. He answers my question by pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead and whispering in my ear. "I love you, Katniss. You know I would do anything you ask of me, but this is the one exception. I will protect you until the day I die, because I am too selfish to live without you."


End file.
